


In the Face of Death

by FateAwaits



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Dark, F/F, Flashbacks, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Malfoy Manor, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Past and Present, Ron isn't a twat, Werewolf Bite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-29 22:50:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17212340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FateAwaits/pseuds/FateAwaits
Summary: Malfoy Manor was hell for the blonde haired woman, Narcissa Malfoy. With a pitiful coward of a husband and a deranged sister, the only motivation she had for life was her son. Until she saw a young brunette being tortured on her floor by none other than her said sister.One choice that day changes the course of the war into mayhem.A choice that also sets her onto the path of love and redemption.





	1. Chapter 1

Bottom bunk was moderately comfortable if only one was sleeping in it. Two should have been a challenge. However, Narcissa Malfoy - soon to be reverted to Black - didn't mind the lack of space or the fact that she was only half covered by the duvet. She was awake and sighed in contentment as she was spooned.

She felt most safe at time like these, of early quiet mornings, of no reminders of the war constantly raging, of just her and Hermione Granger.

Trying not to wake her partner, she slowly moved the arm across her and faced the brunette. She looked so peaceful, without the creasing of concentration between her eyebrows that was almost always there for the planning in the damn war. Narcissa saw the red scar on her throat and felt her heart ache. It had been months since that day and still, the scar held no signs of fading. It was the same for her arm.

Regret of not taking action sooner that day filled her thoughts. How she wished that they didn't live in this mess of a war. How she wished that she could just whisk everyone she cared for to somewhere safe where they could just ... live.

Hermione's breathing changed slightly and eyelids fluttered before revealing hazel eyes which met the older woman's blue ones. "Good morning, enjoy your staring?" She smiled.

"With you, how can I not?"

Hermione blushed and whispered, "Oh stop it, you."

"You know you're beautiful, Hermione. No one can say otherwise." She just caught a glimpse of rolling eyes before her face was briefly covered with a pillow. "Hey! It's the truth."

"Enough about me, Cissa, are you alright?"

Narcissa saw the furrowing of Hermione's eyebrows again and just wanted it to disappear. Reaching for it with her thumb, she massaged it away softly. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine."

Hermione cupped her cheek and looked at her eyes, as if searching for something. "I can't help but worry when you wake up in the middle of the night. It breaks my heart that he still plagues your mind," she said truthfully.

The older woman struggled to find the next words until, eventually, she did. "I know, but everything happens for a reason and I wouldn't be here with you now if I hadn't married my husband. I wouldn't trade anything in my life because it means I'm with you."

The two of them shared a moment of silence. They didn't know who made the first move, maybe both of them in sync, but they laid on the warm bed with their foreheads touching - comforting each other in the quiet dawn.

 

Light footsteps padded with slippers sounded a few feet away. "Oh come on you lovebirds, what's for breakfast?" Ron asked in his dressing gown, ginger hair sticking up much like Harry's did.

This time two pillows were thrown at Ron's face.

He ducked just in time unfortunately. "Bloody hell, I was kidding, only kidding! Now where's Draco? I wanna put a request in."

Narcissa shifted, starting to get up for the day while replying, "You've just missed him. I heard him leave earlier."

Walking away, the ginger grumbled under his breath about how people should see him before going on food runs. Though by now, everyone had learnt not to do so otherwise they would be bogged down with a never-ending list of food items, and at least a half hour set back from Ron nattering on so much about what Mrs Weasley made for breakfast.

The older woman made herself look presentable for the day with a few flicks of her wand. She didn't need to do much in the first place - she looked well put together even having just woken up. She bent down, then kissed Hermione softly before heading to the bathroom.

The brunette, feeling like she hadn't just had a full night's sleep, drifted off again. When Draco came back about an hour later, and breakfast was ready, Hermione still slept. It was strange to say the least as the day before hadn't been particularly strenuous. So, when she slept in later than Harry, Narcissa grew a little concerned.

She gently tried to stir her awake by putting her hand on her turned back, but there was no response. "'Mione?"

"Breakfast is ready, love. Draco made your favourite and Ron's not happy about it," Narcissa tried to chuckle. There was no indication that Hermione even heard her.

She tried to turn her over. Once she did, she couldn't quite comprehend what was going on. Something dark - almost black - and sticky, but with a slight quality of smoke was running down one of Hermione's nostrils and a sheen coat of sweat was coating her forehead.

Shaking her now, "Please 'Mione, come on. Wake up; just open your eyes for me."

Pleading was a very rare occurrence for the pureblood, having been used to getting her way without doing so. Subtle threats were more second nature to her, but who was there to threaten now? There have been - completely terrifying - instances in her life where she had no control, like when her son, her son who was only a boy, had been chosen to kill Albus Dumbledore.

This was one of those moments.

She could only beg Merlin that whatever this was, Hermione would be okay.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Malfoy Manor had always been cold and had an eerie quality even before the war. Voldemort's declaration of it being his headquarters made it impossibly icy, as if the structure itself was feeding off his dark magic. Today, there was a disturbance that wasn't the usual appearance of Death Eaters coming to face the wrath of their Lord.

There were people at the gate.

Narcissa overlooking the front stretch of the Manor could make out a group of seven, or eight, behind the tall wrought-iron bars. It was hard to make out past the fog, but she was certain that some members of the group were struggling. It could only mean one thing at this point. The snatchers had finally caught some persons of value. People who could make her one step closer to protecting her son.

This little hope couldn't be seen in her body language, of course, as she kept a straight posture and neutral - touching on cold - facial expression. She was the stark opposite to her sister who, upon noticing where Narcissa's gaze was aimed, immediately leapt to go and see who it was, with a wild, crazed look in her eye.

"Mother," a voice sounded behind her. She could determine her son's voice anywhere and turned to look at him. Although appearing to put on a strong face, only she could tell that he was still haunted from Albus Dumbledore's death. "Who's at the gates?"

"Snatchers. Probably that scoundrel Greyback and his pack."

Suddenly, the door to the hall burst open to the very group Narcissa had saw outside. Three teenagers were bound and fighting their restraints. There was a commotion as one of them was grabbed by Greyback and presented to Bellatrix, who had reappeared with Lucius.

"It's him, ma'am, I know his face is a little puffed up, but look closely and you can see the scar. Plus we have Harry Potter's mudblood best friend."

Narcissa looked closely at the other two captured and had to internally agree. The bushy haired girl looked exactly like the one on the front cover of the Daily Prophet, known to be Hermione Granger. And it wouldn't have been a surprise if the ginger boy was Ronald Weasley. The trio who Draco so animatedly ranted on about during his time at Hogwarts.

Staring at the boy's face, Bellatrix seemed unsure. "We have to know for certain."

Narcissa gripped Draco's arm tightly as if to warn him.

"Draco, come here," beckoned Bellatrix with feigned kindness. "Have a good look, sweetie, we have to be confident before we call the Dark Lord."

Narcissa released her hold as her son stepped forward and knelt in front of the boy. He looked curious and asked, "I don't know ... What happened to his face?"

"Stinging hex, I reckon," said a voice. "Probably done by the girl."

Narcissa almost jumped as Bellatrix cackled and spat, "You think you can fool us, you filthy little mudblood? Give me her wand, it should be easy enough to check." Bellatrix held her hand out towards Greyback, waiting for the wand, but when it took too long, she broke her stare with Hermione and noticed the Sword of Gryffindor hanging loosely in a snatcher's hand.

Narcissa hadn't seen Bella's expression of utter bewilderment since they were girls, and as her sister continued to gape a second longer, she knew there was something wrong. Deeply wrong.

"You, where did you get that sword?!" shrieked Bellatrix, expression replaced by anger and panic. "Tell me now or fa-"

"It was in their tent -"

"No it wasn't!" shouted Hermione, who caught on to the situation. It was the first time Narcissa had heard her voice, and the desperation in her tone pulled at something in her chest.

" - Reckon it's mine now."

It all happened so fast. One minute, they were all just there, and the next, a series of quick flashes from Bellatrix' wand, growls of confusion, then all the snatchers on the floor except for Greyback - who was on his knees.

"Bella -" tried Narcissa.

Her sister whipped her head round so fast that Narcissa was cut short with a scream, "Be quiet! You don't what danger we are in." Bellatrix frighteningly switched to whispering, "Let me think, let me think."

"What do you think you are doing, woman? Release me at once!" Greyback snarled, ignoring her mad outbursts.

"SHUT UP." Everyone did.

Hermione let out a tiny whimper of fear that Narcissa noticed. Their eyes made contact; Hermione's scared and tearful, and, what appeared to Hermione as, Narcissa's unrelentingly cold ones. But they both knew that the older woman wasn't going to do anything to help any of them. Or so they thought.

When Hermione's screams began to shatter through the Manor, Narcissa could hardly look and just wanted it to stop. But she had to look, she couldn't ever show any weakness or it would be exploited. She learnt that the hard way. The situation was all too similar to an event that truly broke her.

At this point, she was frozen as the screams took her back to the tens of people who had been in the young girl's position. And how many of them ended up dead - some, worse than dead. That pulling in her chest came back stronger until her mind caught up with the rest of her.

"CRUCIO."

She was damned if she let this young woman be driven to madness with the Unforgivable. A knife Narcissa knew all too well was handled with purpose and it took her about ten seconds from seeing the weapon to making up her mind.

She was going to play hero for once.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case there's confusion, we're on a ride through the past till we go full circle to the events of Chapter 1. Comment what you think so far :)


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